


Surviving the Plunge

by mynevermore



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Elevators, M/M, Mistletoe, Phobias, Zachariah Being a Dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5431214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynevermore/pseuds/mynevermore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How to conquer your fear of elevators in 3 easy steps.</p>
<p>1) Add Cas to elevator<br/>2) Add Dean to elevator<br/>3) Add mistletoe and wait</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surviving the Plunge

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of based on my own fear of elevators. The incident in Vancouver is a true event (except the chestnut) and occurred when my family was leaving the hotel, the doors automatically shut on their own *shudder* It's only recently (25 years later) that I've gotten over it due to work needs. But I still get uncomfortable if I haven't used a particular lift before.
> 
> This is only a short one shot while I try to overcome some writer's block for chapter 3 of Martini and a Beer.
> 
> And all kudos are gifted to my fabulous new beta, Tori!

The most frustrating part was that he knew he looked ridiculous but he couldn't help it. The only way he felt in control of his anxiety was by desperately clinging to the rail in the elevator on the way up or down. It had become such a fixture in the work day that the other peons he shared the elevator with cleared space for "Cas's corner" whenever they saw that he was joining them. He knew they laughed about his phobia but he still appreciated the thought.

He'd been asked numerous times why he didn't transfer to another floor - Zachariah said there wasn't any available desks on the Ground or lower floors. Why he didn't take the stairs - Remember the fire alarms that were installed on the stairs so we couldn't use them anymore? Why he didn't get another job - Because that's what Zachariah wants.

He booked an appointment with his doctor, picked up a script for anxiety pills and put himself through this torture day after day with white knuckles and sweat stains appearing on his tan trenchcoat. At least his nest of hair didn't end up looking any different from normal since it's impossible to tame.

And here he is again, willingly putting himself through this torment while wondering what he did to deserve it. The doors open slowly and the others hurry on in their eagerness to get home for the day while he shuffles in behind them and finds his rail. His briefcase is set down between his carefully polished dress shoes, his trenchcoat buttoned up to the neck like some kind of shapeless suit of armour, and his fingers desperately wrap around the rail. His eyes squeeze shut even as he hears "Hang on, Mr. Novak. Only twenty eight floors to go." The general titter of muffled laughter doesn't escape his notice but he's too busy hanging on for dear life.

Oh how he wishes he could make this journey on his own without their taunts and laughter. Then the idea of that adds to the sinking feeling of going downwards and the guard in the lobby hears the eruption of laughter curling around the sound of a terrified scream. He sighs and gets up to do his secondary job, unwrapping one Castiel Novak from around the elevator rail.

=========

He's tried treatments for his phobia. Exposure therapy, hypnotherapy, systematic desensitisation, replacing the fear reaction with a relaxation reaction. Thousands upon thousands of dollars poured into the pockets of quacks, shrinks and dreamers with big ideas that don't work.

As you can probably imagine from that scream as he plummetted in the elevator shaft, none of them worked.

But at least he's had no problem in identifying the source of his fear. It sounds rather stupid to other people but the fear is there nonetheless. 

His parents had taken the family on holiday to Vancouver, he'd been an awkward clumsy eight year old eager to help with his younger siblings and always under the feet of his older siblings. And when there's twelve of you, it's hard to not be under foot.

They'd all had a great time, exploring the city, skiing at Whistler, seeing the sights and being in a different country even though it wasn't that far from home. He'd proudly displayed his first ever passport to every border control officer who wanted to see it, and the flight attendants, and the check in ladies, and the cleaners, and the passengers next to him, and those behind him... He was excited!

The flight in a plane was everything he'd ever dreamed of and more, inspiring many months afterwards (once he'd recovered from the incident) imagining himself soaring up amongst the clouds. He'd even made himself wings and jumped on the trampoline to fly.

Then the sights and sounds of Vancouver, his first experience in a cable car, and real maple syrup! It truly was a dream come true.

But their last day in the hotel had been one that stayed with him. He had been asked to hold the lift while the others piled their luggage into it so he stood on tip toe to press the button to keep the doors open. His parents had turned their back for only a minute when Raphael shot a chestnut at him with his slingshot. He'd twisted to avoid it and the doors suddenly slammed shut with an urgent call from the bellhop in the lobby.

The elevator had descended quickly, taking with it a pile of luggage which had toppled on top of little Castiel, and the boy screamed all fifteen floors down to the lobby as if the elevator was going to crash at the bottom and he would be shattered into pieces.

It had taken the hotel manager, the bellhop, his parents and his younger sister Anna three hours to calm him down until his mother took out some sedatives she used on the flight for some of the younger ones and rocked him until he fell asleep in her arms. He refused to take any elevators after that, right up until Zachariah decided to save on a redundancy package and instead use the man's fear against him.

========

Seeing the email about the new building procedures, his stomach had dropped in dread. He'd not only have to run an extra two miles to make up the exercise (not something he minded) but he would have to use the metal can to get to and from work every day.

He'd done everything he could to try to convince Zachariah that he could work on another floor and still be part of the accounting department. He'd offered to come in early and leave late for the same pay. He'd even offered to balance every end of month and do the end of year on his own just to get out of having to use the elevator. But Zachariah refused to budge... asshole.

A whole month, he's endured this torture. He thinks he's done pretty well.

But unfortunately, he got caught up with the last of the reports while everyone left that evening. By the time he looks up from his computer, the street lights are blazing and all he can hear is the whining hum of the cleaners vacuuming the floor. His heart instantly jumps into his throat and he hurriedly grabs his coat and briefcase. He doesn't try to convince one of the cleaners to accompany him, the last time he tried he realised they don't speak English and don't have time to help him.

He drags his footsteps down towards the elevator, looking longingly at the door to the stairs but it's been alarmed and he doesn't have five thousand dollars to pay for a false alarm. He sighs and punches the button for the elevator then pulls his trenchcoat on while practising his breathing exercises.

_Ding!_ The doors slide open to reveal the gaping metal maw within, ready to chew him up. He stares in at the shining metal and whimpers quietly, his hands twisting on the handle of his briefcase. His knuckles are already turning white. He stares long enough that he has an imprint of shining metal, red and green Christmas decorations and the hanging sprig of mistletoe that someone decided to suspend from the ceiling on his vision whenever he closes his eyes.

_Ding!_ The doors slide shut since he makes no move. He lunges forward and punches the button again. The doors open and he flings himself inside, grabbing the rail and clinging on for dear life. His breathing is fast as his heartbeat thunders in his ears, his eyes are screwed shut and he whimpers softly.

The doors ease closed and he whimpers as the metal can travels downwards, not picking up much speed until...a pause then Ding! The doors slide open and he hears another person joining him. He didn't realise it would be possible to be even more tense but here we are, and he can practically feel the other person staring at him.

_Ding!_ Again the doors slide closed and the elevator car travels downwards while gradually picking up speed. Another whimper escapes him then he frowns, feeling a sudden puff of warmth on his lips. He's shaking too hard to be able to open his eyes and see who this other person is. There it is...another puff...then he feels lips slide against his own, a faint rasp of stubble against stubble. So it's a man... Taller than him by the feeling of his head tilting back, warm lips molding perfectly against his, then a tongue sliding against the seam of his lips to silently ask for entry.

He doesn't know what to make of this sudden development so he just relaxes into it, letting his lips part as that tongue darts between them to taste the depths of his mouth. He feels a hand come up to press against the small of his back, another cupping his cheek as that tongue continues to lazily taste him.

Every part of him screams to respond, his own tongue darting out to curl around the one tasting him. His body relaxes into the strong embrace of the one kissing him and he feels light headed in a completely different way.

Another _Ding!_ shakes him from his trance and the doors slide open at the same time his eyes do. Deep pools of blue gaze up into twinkling forest green framed by long lush eyelashes and further enhanced by a galaxy of freckles that he could spend hours counting. His brow furrows in confusion as he tries to work out who the owner of those stunning green eyes are, head tilting to one side until he realises he's wrapped in the arms of Dean Winchester, one of the lead mechanical engineers for the firm.

This information pierces the fog in his brain and he pulls back sharply. "What? But why?"

An easy smile pulls at those plump kiss swollen lips and Dean just wordlessly points to the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. Then he shrugs his coat on over his henley and overshirt, his jeans stained with grease from the parts he's been playing with all day.

"Seeya Cas." He grins at that and makes his way out, leaving the poor confused accountant staring after him. Then Cas realises he didn't register half the descent to the lobby, staring around the marble tiled area as the doors keep trying to close around him. The security guard is staring too since he usually has to retrieve the shaking man and the problem seems to have solved itself.

Struck a bit dumb, Castiel lifts his fingers to his lips and touches the chapped skin there. Then a gummy smile appears and a spring enters his step as he exits the elevator.

Maybe elevators aren't so bad after all.


End file.
